A politician walks into NatWest bank to cash a cheque. As he approaches the cashier he says “Good morning, could you please cash this cheque for me?”
Cashier: “It would be my pleasure, Sir. Could you please show me your ID?”
Politician: “Truthfully, I did not bring my ID with me as I didn’t think there was any need to. I am Leader of the Opposition.”
Cashier: “Yes Sir, I know who you are, but with all the regulations, monitoring of the banks because of impostors and forgers, etc I must insist on seeing ID.”
Politician: “Just ask anyone here at the bank who I am and they will tell you. Everybody knows who I am.”
Cashier: “I am sorry Sir but these are the bank rules and I must follow them.”
Politician: “I am urging you please to cash this cheque.”
Cashier: “Look Sir, this is what we can do. One day, one of the greatest golfers came into the bank without ID. To prove who he was he pulled out his putting iron and made a beautiful shot across the bank into an ink well. With that shot we knew he was telling the truth and cashed his cheque. Another time, our topmost tennis player came in without ID. He pulled out his tennis racquet and made a fabulous shot where the tennis ball landed in my cup. With that spectacular shot we knew he was telling the truth and cashed his cheque. So, Sir, what can you do to prove that it is you, and only you, as the Leader of the Opposition?”
Politician stood there thinking, and thinking and finally says, “Honestly, there is nothing that comes to my mind. I can’t think of a single thing I’m good at.”
Cashier: “Will that be large or small notes, Sir?”
Hans, a middle-aged German Member of The European Parliament on his first visit to Orlando, Florida, finds the red light district and enters a large brothel. The madam asks him to be seated and sends over a young lady to entertain him. They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she gasps and runs away!
Seeing this, the madam sends over a more experienced lady to entertain the gentleman. They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear, and she too screams, “No!” and walks quickly away.
The madam is surprised that this ordinary looking man has asked for something so outrageous that her two girls will have nothing to do with him. She decides that only her most experienced lady, Lola, will do. Lola has never said no, and it’s not likely anything would surprise her. So the madam sends her over to Hans. The sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she screams, “NO WAY, BUDDY!” and smacks him as hard as she can and leaves.
Madam is by now absolutely intrigued, having seen nothing like this in all her years of operating a brothel. She hasn’t done the bedroom work herself for a long time, but she’s sure she has said yes to everything a man could possibly ask for. She just has to find out what this man wants that has made her girls so angry. Besides, she sees a chance to teach her employees a lesson. So she goes over to Hans and says that she’s the best in the house and is available. She sits and talks with him. They frolic, giggle, drink and then she sits in his lap. Hans leans forwards and whispers in her ear, “Can I pay in Euros?”
One day a florist went to a barber for a haircut. After the cut, he asked about his bill, and the barber replied, “I cannot accept money from you, I’m doing community service this week.” The florist was pleased and left the shop. When the barber went to open his shop the next morning, there was a thank you card and a dozen roses waiting for him at his door.
Later, a policeman comes in for a haircut, and when he tries to pay his bill, the barber again replied, “I cannot accept money from you, I’m doing community service this week.” The policeman was happy and left the shop. The next morning when the barber went to open up, there was a ‘thank you’ card and a dozen donuts waiting for him at his door.
Then a politician came in for a haircut, and when he went to pay his bill, the barber again replied, “I can not accept money from you. I’m doing community service this week.” The politician was very happy and left the shop. The next morning, when the barber went to open up, there were a dozen politicians lined up waiting for a free haircut.
A farmer named Bill was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in Scotland when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the farmer, “If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?”
Bill looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure, why not?”
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg.
Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-colour, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the farmer and says, “You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.”
“That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,” says Bill.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the boot of his car.
Then Bill says to the young man, “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”
“You’re a Member of the European Parliament”, says Bill.
“Wow! That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”
“No guessing required.” answered the farmer. “You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of pounds worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about how working people make a living – or about cows, for that matter. This is a flock of sheep. Now give me back my dog.”
This is what politics is all about:
Judy Wallman, a professional genealogical researcher, discovered that Hillary Clinton’s great-great uncle, Remus Rodham, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Montana in 1889.
The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing on the gallows. On the back of the picture is this inscription: ‘Remus Rodham; horse thief, sent to Montana Territorial Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Montana Flyer six times. Caught by Pinkerton detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889.’
Judy e-mailed Hillary Clinton for information about her great-great uncle. Hillary’s staff sent back the following biographical sketch:
‘Remus Rodham was a famous cowboy in the Montana Territory. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Montana railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, Remus passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed.’
While walking down the street one day a Member of Parliament is tragically hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the man.
“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the MP.
“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly and nice guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.
“Now it’s time to visit heaven.”
So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
“Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”
The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers, “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. “I don’t understand,” stammers the MP. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted.”
While visiting England, George W. Bush is invited to tea with the Queen. He asks her what her leadership philosophy is. She says that it is to surround herself with intelligent people. He asks how she knows if they’re intelligent.
“I do so by asking them the right questions,” says the Queen. “Allow me to demonstrate.”
She phones Tony Blair and says, “Mr Prime Minister. Please answer this question: Your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or sister. Who is it?”
Tony Blair responds, “It’s me, ma’am.”
“Correct. Thank you and good-bye, sir,” says the Queen. She hangs up and says, “Did you get that, Mr. Bush?”
“Yes ma’am. Thanks a lot. I’ll definitely be using that!”
Upon returning to Washington, he decides he’d better put the Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to the test. He summons Jesse Helms to the White House and says, “Senator Helms, I wonder if you can answer a question for me.”
“Why, of course, sir. What’s on your mind?”
“Uh, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or your sister. Who is it?”
Helms hems and haws and finally asks, “Can I think about it and get back to you?” Bush agrees, and Helms leaves.
He immediately calls a meeting of other senior senators, and they puzzle over the question for several hours, but nobody can come up with an answer. Finally, in desperation, Helms calls Colin Powell at the State Department and explains his problem.
“Now look here Colin Powell, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother, or your sister. Who is it?” Powell answers immediately, “It’s me, of course, you dumb ass.”
Much relieved, Helms rushes back to the White House and exclaims, “I know the answer, sir! I know who it is! It’s Colin Powell!”
And Bush replies in disgust, “Wrong, you dumb fool. It’s Tony Blair!”
Former President Clinton is playing golf when a reporter calls out “Mr President, how’s your handicap?”
Replies Bill, “The Senator for New York is doing a very good job thank you!”
A mid-level executive was so frustrated at being passed over for promotion year after year, that, in frustration, he went to
a brain-transplant centre in the hope of raising his I.Q. 20 points. After a battery of physical and psychological tests, he was told by the centre’s director that he was an acceptable candidate.
“That’s great!” the executive said. “But I understand that this procedure can be really expensive.”
“Yes, sir, it can,” the director replied. “Depends what you want to become. For instance, an ounce of accountant’s costs one thousand pounds; an ounce of an economist’s brain costs two thousand; an ounce of a corporate president’s is forty-five thousand. An ounce of a politician’s brain is seventy-five thousand pounds.”
“Seventy-five thousand pounds for an ounce of a politician’s brain? Why on earth is that?”
“Do you have any idea,” the director asked, “how many politicians we would have to kill?”
Hillary Clinton went to a primary school to talk to the children about the world. After her talk, she offered a question-and-answer time. One little boy put up his hand, and the Senator asked him his name. “Johnny,” he replied.
“And what is your question, Johnny?”
“I have three questions. First – whatever happened to your medical health care plan; Second – why would you run for President after your husband shamed the office; and Third – whatever happened to all those things you took when you left the White House?”
Just then, the bell rang for recess. Senator Clinton informed the kiddies that they would continue after recess. When they resumed, Hillary asked, “Okay where were we? Oh, that’s right, question time. Who has a question?”
A different little boy put his hand up. Hillary pointed him out and asked him his name. “Steve”
“And what is your question, Steve?”
“I have five questions. Firstly, whatever happened to your medical health care plan; second, why would you run for President after your husband shamed the office; third, whatever happened to all those things you took when you left the White House; fourth, why did the recess bell go off 20 minutes early; and fifth, what happened to Johnny?”
A teacher asked the visiting Prime Minister if he would like to lead a discussion on the word “tragedy.” So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a “tragedy.”
One little boy stood up and offered, “If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs him over and kills him, that would be a tragedy.”
“No,” said the Prime Minister, “that would be an accident.”
A little girl raised her hand. “If a school bus carrying 50 children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy.”
“I’m afraid not,” explained the PM. “That’s what we would call a great loss.”
The room went silent. No other children volunteered. The Prime Minister searched the room.
“Isn’t there someone here who can give me an example of tragedy?”
Finally at the back of the room a small boy raised his hand. In a quiet voice he said: “If an aircraft carrying you, Prime Minister, was struck by a “friendly fire” missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.”
“Fantastic!” exclaimed Blair. “That’s right. And can you tell me why that would be a tragedy?”
“Well,” said the boy, “it has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn’t be a great loss and it probably wouldn’t be an accident either.”
Five surgeons are discussing who makes the best patients to operate on. The first surgeon says, “I like to see accountants on my operating table, because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered.”
The second surgeon responds, “Yeah, but you should try electricians! Everything inside them is colour-coded.”
The third surgeon says, “No, I really think librarians are the best; everything inside them is in alphabetical order.”
The fourth surgeon chimes in. “You know, I like construction workers…those guys always understand when you have a few parts left over.”
But the fifth surgeon shut them all up when he observed, “You’ re all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate on.
There’s no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains and no spine, and the head and the rectum are interchangeable.”
The question below about Australia, are from potential visitors. They were posted on an Australian Tourism Website and the answers are the actual responses by the website officials, who obviously have a sense of humour.
Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia? (UK)
A: You are a British politician, right?
Two alligators were sitting at the side of the swamp. The quite smaller one turned to the quite bigger one and said, “I jes can’t unnerstand hows you kin be so much bigger’n me. We’re the same age, we was the same size as kids. I just don’t get it.”
“Well,” said the big ‘gator, “What you been eatin’, boy?”
“Politicians – same as you,” replied the small ‘gator. “Hmmm. Well, where do y’all catch ’em?”
“Down ‘tother side of the old swamp near The parkin’ lot by the capitol.”
“Same here. Hmmm. How do you catch ’em?”
“Well, I crawls up under one of them Lexuses and wait fer one to unlock the car door. Then I jumps out, grab ’em on the leg, shake the crap out of ’em, and eat ’em!”
“Ah!” says the big alligator, “I think I see your problem. You ain’t gettin’ any real nourishment. Ya see, by the time you get done shakin’ the crap out of a politician, there ain’t nothin’ left but an a backside and a briefcase.”
He knows nothing and thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career.
George Bernard Shaw
Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn’t mean politics won’t take an interest in you.
Pericles (430 B.C.)
In general, the art of government consists of taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other.
A government big enough to give you everything you want, is strong enough to take everything you have.
Government is the great fiction, through which everybody endeavours to live at the expense of everybody else.
Frederic Bastiat, French Economist(1801-1850)
Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But then I repeat myself.
The only difference between a taxman and a taxidermist is that the taxidermist leaves the skin.
No man’s life, liberty, or property is safe while the legislature is in session.
Mark Twain (1866)
The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of the blessings. The inherent blessing of socialism is the equal sharing of misery.
I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.
A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul.
George Bernard Shaw
Government’s view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.
Ronald Reagan (1986)
A liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man, which debt he proposes to pay off with your money.
- Gordon Liddy
Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.
James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994)
Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.
Douglas Casey, Classmate of Bill Clinton at Georgetown University
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.
P.J. O’Rourke, Civil Libertarian
If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it’s free.
What this country needs are more unemployed politicians. Edward Langley, Artist (1928 – 1995)
The problem with political jokes is they get elected.
Henry Cate, VII
We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office.
If we got one-tenth of what was promised to us in these acceptance speeches there wouldn’t be any inducement to go to heaven.
Those who are too smart to engage in politics are punished by being governed by those who are dumber.
Politicians are the same all over. They promise to build a bridge even where there is no river.
When I was a boy I was told that anybody could become President; I’m beginning to believe it.
Why pay money to have your family tree traced; go into politics and your opponents will do it for you.
Politicians are people who, when they see light at the end of the tunnel, go out and buy some more tunnel.
Politics is the gentle art of getting votes from the poor and campaign funds from the rich, by promising to protect each from the other.
I offer my opponents a bargain: if they will stop telling lies about us, I will stop telling the truth about them.
Adlai Stevenson, campaign speech, 1952
A politician is a fellow who will lay down your life for his country.
Any American who is prepared to run for president should automatically, by definition, be disqualified from ever doing so.
I have come to the conclusion that politics is too serious a matter to be left to the politicians.
Charles de Gaulle
Politics is supposed to be the second-oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.
Instead of giving a politician the keys to the city, it might be better to change the locks.
Don’t vote, it only encourages them.
There ought to be one day – just one – when there is open season on senators.